


A Fox Knows

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sex Magic, Sex as animals, transformative sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11351646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: Quentin isn’t always sure of himself or what he wants when it comes to Eliot, but all that changes when they transform into foxes at Brakebills South.





	A Fox Knows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gizmo/gifts).



> This is for Gizmo, who gave me the idea and because she’s awesome! Comments and kudos are magic. Enjoy!

A Fox Knows

By Lexalicious70 (TheChampagneKing70)

 

Quentin knows that his heart has never been lighter than it is in this moment.

 

He and his fellow classmates streaked across the arctic snowpack, moving across it on their clever, light fox feet. When Mayakovsky had announced that the class would become foxes for the afternoon, Quentin had been surprised that their taciturn teacher hadn’t given them a more difficult spell. Now, as Quentin tussled and nipped and wrestled with the others, delicate sprays of snow shooting up under their furry bodies, he understood that it must be some kind of reward—or at least he hoped.

 

As Quentin jumped on Alice and scented her musk, a fragrance that had his fox senses wildly interested, he saw Eliot, his form long and sinewy, his coat darker than the others, streak out toward the arctic plains, the whites of his eyes showing. Quentin leapt away from Alice: as interesting as that smell was, the part of his brain that was still Quentin told him that he couldn’t let Eliot run out into the white wastelands, where he’d surely freeze to death once the spell wore off. Alice yapped and nipped at his heels, but Quentin disentangled himself to chase after Eliot. Eliot’s lithe fox body was swift, but Quentin managed to catch up with him. Eliot turned as Quentin nipped the back of one darkly-furred leg, his teeth as sharp as the polar wind and white as the snow beneath their feet. Quentin’s black nose worked.

 

_Fear fear fear!_

 

The smell was coming off of Eliot in waves and Quentin took a step forward. Eliot’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets and he turned to flee again. Quentin pounced on him before he could take more than a few steps and Eliot snarled, his body writhing in the snow as he tried to escape. Quentin pinned him, locking his sharp little teeth into the scruff of Eliot’s neck. Eliot lay underneath him, panting, and Quentin slowly released his grip to nuzzle him instead.

 

_Safe. Safe._

The tension left Eliot’s body little by little as Quentin nuzzled him, and then the fear scent turned into something else—something like what he’d smelled on Alice, only it made him dizzy with lust. Eliot wriggled out from under him and lifted his tail, and Quentin pounced again. Eliot submitted, giving a low animal whine of primal lust, and Quentin bit the back of Eliot’s neck again as he entered him. The joining made them both pant and whimper, and in the recesses of Quentin’s mind, where the human part of him still existed inside his fox fur, he suddenly understood exactly why Mayakovsky had chosen this form for them.

 

He came hard, his teeth locked in the thick fur of Eliot’s neck.

 

 

“So. Are we going to talk about it?”

 

Quentin looked up, still shivering from the after-effects of being outside without his clothes or fur. Eliot was wrapped in a soft white Brakebills South robe he’d gotten from God knows where, sipping a cup of something hot and steaming.

 

“I don’t know what I can say, El. Other than the truth.” Quentin replied quietly, and Eliot came to sit beside him.

 

“You know, up until about ten minutes ago, I didn’t know whether to stay a fox and run off into the wilderness or come to find you. Now that I made my choice, I have to say that I think it was the right one. And that what happened out there wasn’t just because we were foxes, Q.”

 

“No. I mean . . . a part of me wanted to make sure you were safe, but then it’s like it changed and—and it was pure and there were no bullshit questions and I wasn’t second-guessing myself like I always do. It was you, and you were what I wanted.” His dark eyes lifted to Eliot’s startled amber ones. “You are what I want, Eliot.”

 

Eliot set his cup aside and touched Quentin’s face. Quentin could feel his fingers trembling.

 

“I’m what you want?”

 

Quentin lifted his hands to mirror Eliot’s actions, touching his cheeks and his angular jawline before leaning in close.

 

“You’re all I want.” He brushed his lips against Eliot’s and then let them sink into a deeper kiss. Eliot’s hot tears dripped against his own cheeks as they sat under a snow-spattered window and Quentin let his hands drift into Eliot’s ebony curls, as soft and thick as his pelt had been out in the snow, where Quentin had left his fear, doubt and uncertainty.

 

_A fox knows._

_FIN_


End file.
